


Things Have Changed For Me

by AnonymouslyDead



Series: Get Your Game On, My Hero Academia! [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Drunken cuddling, M/M, Oboros ain’t dead, Reuniting, Some angst over Oboro, Some hints at yugioh 5Ds plot, Some inconsistent name calling, Turbo Dueling, Yugioh 5Ds flavored foc, fluff?, he got kidnapped by a cult, like psychic duelist power and the arcana movement, may fix later, yugioh - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymouslyDead/pseuds/AnonymouslyDead
Summary: Time changes things. When Hizashi got a deal to play duel monsters professionally, he knew his life would change.He didn’t think it’d be this much though.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic
Series: Get Your Game On, My Hero Academia! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563862
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Things Have Changed For Me

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, hang on to your seats. Our next contestant to the field is a newcomer speeding up the ranks. A mystery man called Eraserhead.”

Out zipped a sleek black duel runner so quiet it took a minute for the audience to recognize. When they did though, the audience roared. 

“For those just tuning in, Eraserhead demolished his competition in the first and second round. Now, he wishes to challenge a regular here at the Kaiba Dome. He’s a fan favorite who tears up the track. Give it up for Present Mic!” 

The crowd gave a loud applause. Out of a pit, Hizashi zoomed to the loud whine of his engine, his bright orange duel runner a smear along the track. He rode around the track along with Eraserhead. 

“Let the duel commence!” 

The two flipped coins on their duel runner’s screens, declaring Hizashi the winner. He chose to go second. 

Eraserhead grimaced. His mouth was the only part Hizashi could see though. Even when they road side by side, yellow helmet obscured the top half of his face. 

“I play the spell card, Trade Agreement. This allows me to summon two monsters this turn at the expense of one card from my hand.” Aizawa stated, low and monotone. He sent one card to the graveyard. Afterwards, he set down two face down monsters. “I end my turn.” 

“Oh boy, you’re going to have to do better than that, Eraser.” Hizashi teased. The man didn’t respond, his eyes set on the track and his mouth drawn tight. Hizashi shrugged it off while he drew a new card. “Because I’ve got a banging set in store for you! I summon the banging bassist, Metalhead!” 

A large green monster clad in a mix of leather and metal armor sprout on the field. Between his four arms, he belted out an ear splitting guitar solo on his axe guitar. 

“Metalhead, attack his left facedown.” 

Metalhead swing his guitar over his shoulder and aimed it at the facedown. Hizashi turned towards Eraserhead, ready to make a quip, when he noticed the small smirk on his face. 

Hizashi knew he’d regret his decision. 

“Reveal Backstabbing Rouge.” A medieval era man sprung from the card, poised with a pair of knives. “His special ability activated when he is destroyed while facedown.” 

Hizashi watched as his monster struck the Backstabbing Rouge. As the projection shattered, it threw one of its knives at Metalhead. Metalhead’s projection slowly cracked before shattering like the Backstabbing Rouge. 

“Guess it’s my turn then?” Eraserhead stated more than asked. Something about it made Hizashi smile. 

“Now, hold your horses. Let me just lay down two cards.” Hizashi did so. “There. Now, you can showboat.” 

Aizawa drew a card. “I summon the tuner monster, Smolting Syncron.” A small cartoonish blacksmith appeared on the field. “I’ll tribute him and my facedown to synchro summon my Metal Forge Warrior.” 

A large warrior in stark black armor loomed on the field. Out of the gaps in its armor, molten metal glowed where it pooled inside. It reached inside its visor where it proceeded to pull its own blade from the glowing, dripping metal. 

“Metal Forge Warrior, strike at his life points.” 

“Not unless I activate my trap card, Scrap Iron Scarecrow!” 

Metal Forge Warrior moved to attack only to run into the barrier that Scrap Iron Scarecrow threw up. Metal Forge Warrior grunted in surprise and flinched back to Eraserhead’s side. 

“Seems like we’ll be here a while at this rate.” Eraserhead said with a hint of amusement, the first real reaction he’d gotten from the man. 

“Better buckle up then, because I’m just getting warmed up!” 

The two went back and forth for what felt like ages. Each move, they managed to chip bit by bit at their life points, building up combos and monsters only for the other to rip their plans apart. The audience around them sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation. The score was neck and neck. Every time one of them seemed to pull ahead, the other enacted a combo to knock the other down again. It’s almost as if they had dueled a thousand times before and could see each other’s strategy. 

Even Eraserhead seemed to feel the anticipation. He gritted his teeth and clinched against his handlebars as Hizashi’s Thunderbird ripped apart his monster, knocking Eraserhead’s life points down to his last 300. Hizashi let out a cheer- 

But stopped when Eraserhead drew his card. 

And he saw that devilish smile. 

There was something about it that told Hizashi he was screwed. 

“I activate the spell card, Monster Reborn. This allows me to summon the monster I discarded. Vanishing Dragon!” 

A large, spirling grey dragon coiled out from the matching card on the field. It shot up in the air, twirling its long, tubular body for a moment, before posing on its spot where it’s body shifted in and out of visibility. 

“Finish him!” Eraserhead commanded. 

Hizashi could barely hear him though. Could barely see the dragon blipping in and out of sight until the monster landed its hit. Could barely hear over the roar of the crowd before his duel runner backfired. He slowed to a stop while Eraserhead sped on. 

No, not Eraserhead. 

Hizashi drove himself down to the runner pits and waited. It took a while until the black dueler rolled in. Eraserhead hopped off his runner and walked off like they hadn’t just dueled. Hizashi huffed and followed. 

“Sho?” The man stopped. “Shouta, that’s you?” 

“You recognize me now?” He turned and whipped off his helmet. 

His hair was longer now. And greasier. And he had grown taller. And there was a nasty, jagged scar on his cheek that Hizashi was dying for an explanation for- 

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Aizawa asked bluntly. 

Yep, that was Shouta alright. 

Hizashi smiled. Before Aizawa could react, Hizashi threw his arms around him. 

“Sho! It’s been forever!” 

“5 years.” 

Hizashi tightened his hold at the comment. Aizawa grunted in protest. “Where the hell have you been? I haven’t heard from you in what? Three years? What the hell?” 

“Things got hard for a while. You know how the Satellite is.” Aizawa explained. 

Hizashi felt a pang of guilt. He knew exactly how hard the Satellite was. He’d spent his childhood tossed between shitty foster homes and equally shitty orphanages until he got a chance to leave at 17. 

Guess he forgot that Aizawa wasn’t so lucky. 

Hizashi tightened his hold on Aizawa. Maybe, he shouldn’t have left. 

“Zashi, you’re hurting me.” 

Hizashi loosened his grip. “I’m sorry.” Hizashi chuckled embarrassed. Aizawa gave him an annoyed look but let it go. 

“How’d you get into the city?” 

“Same as you. A recruiter caught one of the underground duels and was impressed. That was…” Aizawa frowned. “A year ago? He brought me out to duel competitively” 

So, he spent four years in the Satellite. Hizashi frowned. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

Hizashi blinked. “Like what?” 

“Like you’re pitying me.” 

“I’m not! I’m just sad that it’s been so long.” 

Aizawa shrugged. “It is what it is. You couldn’t exactly miss your opportunity.” 

“You would’ve beaten me if I had.” Hizashi chuckled. He clearly remembered the funny expression on teen Aizawa’s when he had suggested not taking the offer. 

“Damn right, I would’ve.” Aizawa chuckled as if he wasn’t a tiny teen that Hizashi towered over for years. To be fair though, Aizawa had grown to be closer to Hizashi’s height and looked like he could swing a killer right hook. 

“I see you’ve done well for yourself.” Aizawa stated. Hizashi shrugged. 

“I do what I can to satisfy my sponsors.” 

“But, what about last year? You won that tournament in Hollow City.” 

“Oh, you saw that?” Hizashi smiled. 

“Of course, we all kept track of your career. Nemuri managed to wrangle a television from this guy in the Iron District for us to watch it live.” 

Hizashi’s eyes widened. “Oh, how has Nemuri been? I haven’t heard from her either. Or Oboro for that matter. What has he been doing? Are they coming, too?” 

Aizawa’s eyes widened slightly. His lips drew in a tight line which put a bad feeling in Hizashi’s stomach. Aizawa swallowed before starting. 

“Nemuri is fine. She’s...fine. She said she’d make her way here herself. You know how she could always twist people into her will.” 

Hizashi did know this. It was almost like magic how people seemed to bow to Nemuri’s will so often. All it took was a little chatting up with the right people, Nemuri claimed, but it worked so often that Hizashi had to wonder if it was like some sort of power. 

But as Hizashi thought over the logistics, he noticed Aizawa was quiet. That steely look was still on his face. Oh no. 

“What…happened to Oboro?” Hizashi fumbled to say. 

“We don’t know.” was all Aizawa said at first. It took a solid minute for him to swallow and continue. “We don’t know. These strange people started hanging around our street. Not recruiters or one of the gangs or anything. They had these weird uniforms and shouted strange prophecies. They appeared one day and like that, they were gone. The strange people and Oboro.” 

Hizashi’s jaw dropped as he tried to process what he was told. The realization hit him suddenly and hard. 

“We tried telling the police. We really did, but no one is going to listen to a bunch of Satellite kids.” 

“Seriously?” Hizashi held his forehead, trying to process what he’d been told. The anger, regret, and the deep pit that was loss we’re making it hard though. “I’ll kill them.” 

“We already tried that.” Aizawa stated simply. “No use. There’s no leads. No one we’ve found knows anything. In the Satellite anyway.” 

Hizashi felt sick to his stomach. He should’ve been there. He could’ve protected Oboros. He can’t seem to stop himself from thinking about it. Oboro, the most optimistic of their group. The light of their group who had a never wavering spirit and a drive to match. The one who kept them going even when Aizawa stepped into another fight and got beaten senseless. Even when Nemuri’s charm ran her into another spout of trouble with Sector Security. Even when Hizashi felt like he wouldn’t survive another bout of being shuffled around like a burden to be shared. 

Now, that light was gone, and the darkness was torturous. 

But, the rainbow sludge that passed for a cocktail in New Domino City numbed that pain.After his talk with Aizawa, he‘d marched right to the first crappy bar he could find and ordered the first thing he saw. He downed the sludge before slamming the glass down and cringing as the burn of alcohol settled in. 

They didn’t call it the Rainbow Dragon for nothing. 

He ordered another. 

“Better slow down, Zashi.” He heard just as his next drink was presented to him. Hizashi whipped around in his barstool. Aizawa stared down at him still clad in his black turbo dueling suit. 

“What are you doing?” Hizashi asked. 

Aizawa took the barstool next to him. “You marched off with a dazed look on your face. I thought you mind be off to do something stupid.” 

“Yeah well-“ Hizashi tipped his drink towards him before downing the glass. 

It was worse the second time, but the alcohol was settling nicely that nasty feeling in his stomach. 

“I didn’t take you as the type to drink away your sorrow.” 

“New day. New vices.” Hizashi said sourly before resting his cheek against his fist. 

“I can drink to that.” Aizawa flagged down the barkeep and ordered whiskey. 

“Don’t you have to duel tomorrow?” Hizashi raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have another duel today?” 

“Lost the semi finals. Weren’t you paying attention?” 

“No, I was busy being nostalgic. Speaking of which, can I get a Dark Magician instead of this?” He asked, the question directed at bartender. A short minute later, the two had their drinks in hand. They clinked glasses before downing them. 

The night is a blur of drinks and chatter. It’s nice. Aizawa didn’t seem to change much over the years. Still quiet with an occasional spout of dry humor. Still mindful of small details, pointing out flaws and strengths in Hizashi’s dueling strategy. Hizashi did the same, and it was just like when they were younger, scavenging cards from odds and ends and hoarding them like treasures. They’d plot out their finishing moves for when they would be pro duelists as it wasn’t a pipe dream. 

Guess dreams do come true. 

But then, the image of a white haired kid holding on to Pot of Greed came to mind. His smile had been huge when he showed it off, claiming it was a must for any duelist. That it was going right in his deck when he made it to New Domino City. 

Hizashi felt the tears running down his cheeks. Aizawa looked at him with a pained look, at a loss for what to say. What to do. Lucky for him, he was saved from a choice. The bartender declared that they were cut off and that he would call them a cab. 

The ride back was silent except for Hizashi slurring out his address. Aizawa said nothing, not even his address, which was fine with Hizashi. All the more reasons for Hizashi to pull him stumbling up the stairs to his apartment. 

It was small, a one bedroom studio apartment. He wasn’t big enough on the pro duelist scene to earn big money, but what he did make was enough. Besides, he liked to think that his personal taste really made the place shine. 

Plus, he got to see Aizawa bat at the beaded curtain that separated his bedroom alcove from the rest of the apartment. Hizashi let out a hiccuping laugh. Just like a kitten. 

Hizashi collapses on his bed laughing. Aizawa glared down at him from the foot of it, spurring on Hizashi to laugh even harder. Aizawa rolled his eyes before spinning on his heel...which sent him stumbling back into the beaded curtain. 

“Come on, you’re drunk.” Hizashi clumsily patted the space in the bed next to him. “I don’t bite much.” 

“So are you.” Aizawa stated, continuing his tirade on the curtain.

Hizashi frowned when Aizawa left his sight. “Don’t go.” He struggled to say but when he did, it came out broken. 

“I’m...not.” 

“What are you doing then?” Hizashi asked. 

“Making chocolate pudding. What do you think I’m doing?” 

Hizashi chuckled. Aizawa swung back the beaded curtain again, this time in boxers and a tight black shirt that showed off a bit of his stomach. Hizashi stared. 

“Is that my shirt?” Hizashi asked. Aizawa shrugged. He seemed so calm about that Hizashi didn’t question it. 

“Do you know how hot that racing suit gets after a while?” Aizawa snipped. Hizashi laughed again as Aizawa face planted the bed. . 

Aizawa lifted his head. “You should change too.” Then, he face planted again. 

It’s the first time that night that Hizashi realizes he was still in his Present Mic attire. Now that he had though, the leather seemed to be melting to his skin. Hizashi clawed at the leather hem of his pants, peeling them off quickly and without mercy. 

“I didn’t mean here.” 

Hizashi looked at Aizawa but his face was just a second from being pressed into the mattress again. 

“Why not? You’ve seen me in less as a kid.” 

Aizawa only grunted a response, but it made Hizashi think better. He shrugged off the leather jacket he wore, stopping at the soft red turtleneck he wore under it before joining Aizawa back on the bed. 

“It’s like we’re kids again.” Hizashi sighed, but Aizawa didn’t say anything. From the slow rise and fall of his shoulders though, he must be fast asleep. He never took a long time to fall sleep. 

Some things never changed. 

Except it did with Oboro. Now, he was gone. 

Hizashi looked at Shouta. Looked at his wider shoulders. His longer hair. The faded scars decorating his arms. He barely knew the man before him anymore. 

But, that didn’t mean he wanted him to go, too. God, not again. Not him, too. 

So, it’s kind of fitting when he woke up early the next morning with his face pressed in Aizawa’s chest. He felt that his legs had sandwiched themselves between Aizawa’s and his arms had snaked around Aizawa’s waist. 

He vaguely remembered shifting somewhere in night. Whether it was him or Aizawa was debatable, but he was glad for it. He felt warm. Safe. Secure. Like nothing would change. That they could live on as the pair of Satellite kids curling up with each other to share body warm when their new families couldn’t afford heating. 

But, things changed. They grew up and moved on. Aizawa might just wake up and walk out of his life. Just like Hizashi had done before. 

But, Hizashi didn’t want that. Damn it! He wanted to be there with him. He wanted to be there with Aizawa. With Nemuri. With Oboro. To be the plucky kids that came from nothing but had the world in their hands. The ones who talked about big dreams in New Domino City. How duel monsters was going to change their lives. 

But, that not how the world works. It’s not how it fucking works, and it was pissing Hizashi off. 

Hizashi sighed. He shifted in bed, trying to squirm his out from Aizawa’s legs. Instead, Aizawa shifted closer, slinging his own arm around Hizashi. 

“It’s too fucking early to be moving.” Aizawa rasped out. Hizashi couldn’t help an amused chuckle. “Go back to sleep already.” 

“You know I’m bad at that, Sho.” 

“Try harder.” Aizawa said lower, breathier. It’s not even a minute before Aizawa is back asleep again. 

He must’ve seen how they were. Must’ve felt it at least. And yet, here he was still holding on to him. The thought settled Hizashi’s mind a bit. 

Things changed, but he had now at least. So, Hizashi buried his face back into Aizawa’s chest, trying to memorize just what the moment felt like. What being with Aizawa felt like. 

**Author's Note:**

> May write more later but this is it for now! Comment what you think and kudos if you liked it!


End file.
